


Holding On to You

by AgtSpooky



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-12
Updated: 2007-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8702275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: Set at the end of Season One. Jensen wonders if he’ll be able to hold onto Jared if Supernatural is cancelled, fearing that Jared feels that when the show is over, so are they.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title** : Holding On to You  
**Author** : [ ](http://agt-spooky.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://agt-spooky.livejournal.com/)**agt_spooky**  
**Pairing** : Jensen/Jared  
**Rating** : NC-17  
**Word Count:** 3,517  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None  
**Disclaimer** : It’s RPS, people. It never happened, but I wish it would. :-)  
**Author’s Notes** : Many thanks, as always, to my fabulous beta, [ ](http://charityflint.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://charityflint.livejournal.com/)**charityflint** , who always makes my stories better. :-)   
**  
Summary** : Set at the end of Season One. Jensen wonders if he’ll be able to hold onto Jared if Supernatural is cancelled, fearing that Jared feels that when the show is over, so are they. 

 

 

 **Holding On to You**  
by AgtSpooky  
  
November 14, 2007  
 

  
You both decide to stay in Vancouver when the season wraps. Eric says he’ll call as soon as he finds out about renewal for another year, no need to stay up here. Go home, see your family. Go down to L.A. and hang out with your friends.

But Texas and California means you’ll be apart – and neither of you is ready for that yet. That will happen soon enough when you need to be in Santa Cruz to film a movie and he leaves to travel to Europe with his family - in just six weeks.

So you stay in Canada, anxiously awaiting word on if you’ll have a job for another year. If you’ll be together for another year.

You’re both nervous but neither of you will admit it, so neither of you speaks about what will happen if the network axes the show, about what will happen to this relationship you’ve both fallen into.

You want to believe this is more than just an on-set fling between the two of you. That it goes deeper. That there’s truly something here that you’ve created that could withstand the separation of no longer working together. Of seeing each other practically 24/7. Of having separate jobs that may leave one of you here and the other in California or New York.

You want to believe that _he_ believes that.

Because you do.

But you’re men, and though the characters you play find it possible to open up and share what they’re feeling, you both find it harder to do so.

So you say nothing at all.

The first week crawls slowly by and neither of you are ever without your cell phone, waiting for the call.

You spend the time at his hotel suite or yours, watching movies, playing video games, smiling and laughing. But there’s a strained quality to it now, both of you on edge, waiting for that damn phone call.

And at night, tangled together in his bed or yours, there’s an almost desperate, frantic edge to your lovemaking, like each time may be your last. So you kiss harder, grip harder, thrust harder – imprinting yourself on each other. In case memories are all you have left after the phone call.

~~~~~

In the middle of the second week you’re both climbing the walls. You decide to get away from Vancouver after all, hoping a change of scenery will occupy you both and take your mind off of renewal or cancellation. Question is, where to go? 

The answer, strangely enough, comes from Jeff. He calls that afternoon, asks what trouble the two of you are going to get up to this summer and you tell him you were just trying to figure that out. Jeff says he might have an idea, let him make a few calls and get back to you.

And when he does, it’s perfect. A friend of his has a place out in West Virginia that he uses for fishing trips. Quiet and secluded up in the mountains, along the Cheat River. It’s empty now, will be for the next three weeks and it’s all theirs if they want it.

Bags are packed and flights are booked in the blink of an eye and before you know it you’re driving up a dirt road in a rented Jeep, stopping in front of a small, but well kept cabin.

You dump your things in the bedroom with the bigger bed, though it’s nowhere near Padalecki-size. Guess he’ll just have to sleep wrapped around you so his feet don’t hang off the edge. You could think of worse things.

You emerge from the bedroom and he’s bouncing around like an overgrown puppy wanting to get outside and explore. You indulge him with a smile and a shake of your head. The rest of the unpacking can wait.

The sun is high and bright overhead, glinting through the trees, and you can hear the Cheat in the distance. He leads the way toward the water, following the path that Jeff’s friend had created from his frequent visits here.

You take time to just look around while you walk. Being in the mountains of West Virginia isn’t that different from being in the mountains of Vancouver, but you’re always filming in the dark, in the rain, and don’t have time to appreciate the natural beauty that you’re surrounded by. So you let your eyes wander – to the blue sky dotted with bright white clouds, to the trees stretching high above you, to the flowers bursting with color alongside the path. Until your view is obstructed by a gray t-shirt stretched across a muscular chest. You realize that you’ve stopped walking and he’s come back to find you.

He’s smiling and shaking his head at _you_ this time, and you see the mischievous glint in his hazel eyes a moment too late. Next thing you know you’re up against the nearest tree, back rubbing against the bark and his body is pressing insistently against yours.

Your eyes close as his mouth finds yours, his tongue licking at your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You eagerly comply, parting your lips for him, kissing him long and slow, and you never, ever want to stop.

You love him. 

You love him and you’ve never fucking told him. Maybe because he’s never spoken the words to you, either. Maybe because this was never supposed to be the plan – commitment – when you started this…thing. This no-strings-attached…thing. But you were helpless to stop yourself from falling and falling hard for him.

Just a look from him starts the blood thrumming in your veins. Just a touch sets you on fire. But it’s more than that – the desire, the attraction. It’s more than physical. It’s _everything_ about him.

You wish you knew if he feels the same toward you. If he’s fallen just as hard.

The kiss eventually ends and he pulls back a bit, cupping the side of your face with his hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone, looking at you intently. You get the feeling he wants to say something but struggles with it, and ends up losing as he instead steps away and tugs you back onto the path.

A half mile later and you’ve reached the river, and you can instantly see why Jeff’s friend picked this area to build his cabin for the perfect fishing spot.

The Cheat is wide and calm here, the water so clear you can see to the bottom. While the bank of the river is mostly rocky, there’s a large sandbar here, an ideal spot for a long, lazy day of fishing. There’s a fire ring off to one side and you can see stakes in the ground where a tent had been.

While you’ve been looking around, he’s already kicked off his flip-flops and headed toward the river. You laugh as the cool water touches his bare feet, giving him pause before he wades further out, still on the sand, until the water is lapping at the bottom of his cargo shorts.

"C’mon in!" he calls. "The water’s fine!"

It’s hot out and the water does look inviting, so you take off your sandals and wade out to join him. Which is an immediate mistake when you see the spark in his eyes right before he splashes you with handfuls of the cool water.

It’s on from there, the two of you acting like six year olds, laughing loud and bright, playing in the water, scaring away the fish for miles.

You turn your back to avoid a facefull of water and he’s behind you in an instant, hooking an arm around your waist, drawing you back against his hard body. His hand slips down inside your shorts, palming you through your tight, black boxer briefs and you groan, dropping your head back against his shoulder. He bites at your neck and the sensation shoots straight down to your cock, hardening beneath his hand.

He’s got your sodden shirt off in the blink of an eye, tossed somewhere on the sand and his fingers find your nipple, pinching slightly. You buck back against him, feel his arousal through the fabric of his shorts and you want him inside you, right here, right now, in the water.

The rest of your clothing and his winds up somewhere near the shore and you stand naked together under the sun, a thrill coursing through you that you’re about to have sex outside, in the water no less. It’s something you’ve never done with him. No bathtub is built for him, let alone the two of you, and though the hotel you live in has a pool, it’s not exactly private. So this…it’s a first, and arousal spikes sharp and deep.

He backs you up further into the water until you’re chest deep, at the very end of the sandbar, where the riverbed starts to turn rocky. He guides you to a large rock there, about shoulder high. He places your hands on the rock and presses up against the length of you. You can feel him, hot and hard, sliding between your legs, pushing against your balls, as he kisses your neck and shoulders and back, raising goosebumps on your flesh.

The gentle current flows against your skin, heightening this erotic moment as he strokes you under the water. You close your eyes and tilt your face up to the sun as your pleasure builds, soft noises escaping your lips.

He pushes inside you so damn slow, so you can feel every single inch of him and twin moans are lost to the summer sky as he fills you, then starts to move. His rhythm is sure and strong and deep, the water moving up around you as he drives you both higher and higher.

He’s panting your name in your ear and you know he’s close. You want him to come before you do so you press your hips back hard and he gasps, his rhythm stuttering, making little waves in the water.

"Let me feel you…" you breathe. "Let me feel you come, Jare…god, let me feel you…"

Your words are the last push he needs and he keens high in his throat, pushing impossibly further inside you as his orgasm crashes over him. The sensation of him pulsing so long and hard inside you sends you over the edge as well with a sharp cry and you climax in the water, an incredible, erotic sensation.

When you come back to yourself his arms are wrapped around you and he’s kissing the side of your neck. "That was amazing," he murmurs, and you realize he’s still hard inside you, as turned on by sex in the water as you are. You tighten your muscles around him and he groans.

"Again..." you moan, eyes sliding closed, and it’s a long time later before you’re lying together on the sand, kissing softly, fingers entwined.

~~~~~

Later that afternoon you’re putting away the groceries you picked up at the local store in town on your way up here when he finds the tent and several sleeping bags.

"Hey, let’s camp out by the water tonight," he says. "We can bring some firewood down with us." He slides up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chest against your back, his lips at your ear. "We can spread out a blanket…make love by the fire…"

His voice is a low rumble and you shiver from both it and the image he’s just conjured up in your mind – laying him out under the stars, sliding inside him as the fire casts him in red and gold light, watching him come apart beneath you…

Next thing you know, you’re pushing him up against the counter, dropping to your knees, showing him just how much you like his idea and giving him a preview of what’s to come that night.

~~~~~

It takes a couple of trips to get everything down to the river, and the sun is just starting to sink toward the horizon by the time you’re done. There are enough clouds for it to be a spectacular sunset, and you sit side by side on the blanket, beers in hand, watching as the sky turns pink and red and orange and purple.

He sets his empty bottle in the sand and turns on his side toward you, saying softly, "I’m really glad we came out here," before his hand slips up under your t-shirt, fingers warm against your stomach. You pull your shirt off then tug at his until he does the same. Your shorts and boxer briefs are next, along with his, until you’re both gloriously naked under the stars and the moon.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful. Miles of smooth, warm skin, bathed in firelight – and you taste every inch of him until he’s moving restlessly beneath you, wanting more. Wanting you.

He throws his head back, mouth dropping open as you slide inside him. It feels like coming home, every single time you do this, and it takes your breath away, these feelings he stirs inside you.

You’ve never had a relationship last longer than six months. You’ve never wanted one to. Until now. Until Jared.

You’ve always been a shy, intense person. Strange to find shyness in an actor, but that’s just you. You love acting for the _craft_ , not for the dog-and-pony show that goes along with it. You hate those press functions where a microphone is stuffed in front of your face with an interviewer asking inane questions. You’d rather be anywhere but there.

Until Jared came along.

He’s more outgoing than any person you’ve ever known. He’s big and loud and funny and can talk to anyone about anything with ease. While you shy away from the spotlight, he thrives in it. And he figured that out about you after your first joint interview together.

From there on out he was determined to get you out of your shell. He started putting his arm around you during those red carpet functions, and it relaxed you like nothing else – being that close to him. And you found your hand resting over his heart, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for you to do. He drew you into the conversations with the press and you eventually found it easier to do the interviews with him beside you, taking the lead because he knew you didn’t want to. 

He _has_ brought you out of your shell. You laugh more and don’t retreat to your trailer so much like you’d done in the past on other shows. Instead you interact with the crew, play practical jokes on them, even speak up about dialogue if you disagree with how it’s been written. Because you see how easily _he_ does it and it gave you the confidence to do it yourself.

You want to hold on to him.

You want to hold on to him because he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. But you’re afraid, so afraid that if you try and hold on _too_ tight, tell him how deeply you’ve fallen for him, he’ll slip out of your fingers.

So you lie to yourself, tell yourself that you’re content to have him at _all_ , and you’ll take whatever he has to give and be happy with that.

Like right now, when he’s looking up at you with pupils blown wide with want and desire, your name and _more, harder, deeper_ , tumbling from his lips as you push inside him again and again. And you’re heady with the knowledge that _you’re_ doing this to him. You’re the one making him tremble and moan as you send him closer and closer to blinding release.

And there – now. He’s shaking and crying out beneath you, coming apart as he climaxes, hard, and you gasp out his name as you tumble over the edge as well, filling him with your release.

You slump over him as the aftershocks send small tremors through your body, and he’s looking up at you with such tenderness you want to say it, just _say it_ – I love you. But you swallow the words down and kiss him gently, speaking with actions instead.

~~~~~

You’re lying face to face under the sleeping bags you’ve zipped together in the tent a short time later, pleasantly tired and sated. 

"So. If we get another year of playing the Winchesters, how emo do you think Sam’s gonna be?" you tease.

But instead of a wisecrack in return his expression is serious and you tilt your head. "That’s twice you’ve looked at me like that today. What is it?" you ask, worry starting to gnaw at your gut. There’s something he’s not telling you.

You can almost see the internal battle he’s waging with himself and you don’t realize you’re holding your breath. It takes a long time for him to speak, and when he does it’s soft and shaky, like he’s afraid to say it, but forcing it out anyway.

"I’m scared."

You draw breath back into your lungs as your brows draw together in confusion. You don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but this wasn’t it.

"Scared? About what?" you ask just as softly.

He swallows. "The phone call. If we don’t get another season…" his voice nearly breaks and he takes a breath, as if drawing courage, before pinning you with those hazel eyes, something new within their depths. Something you’re seeing for the first time. 

Again, his voice is low, but strong this time. "I’m not ready to let you go. I never _want_ to let you go."

Your heart just about stops in your chest at his words and your breath catches. "Jared…"

"I love you. I love you, Jen and I may have just ruined what we have by saying it but I can’t keep it in anymore. I can’t, I – "

You stop his words with a hand on the side of his face. "Jesus Christ, we’ve been so stupid," you smile, shaking your head.

"You mean you…?

"Yeah. For a long time now," you admit, and the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders finally lifts and disappears. "You haven’t ruined anything, Jare," you smile again.

"But…why didn’t you say anything?"

"Fear," you tell him. "I didn’t think you wanted this to be anything more than casual. That you weren’t looking for commitment. And I didn’t want to lose what I already had with you if I was wrong."

"I wasn’t, at first, looking for anything serious," he says. "Sandy and I hadn’t been broken up long and I didn’t think I wanted another relationship. But deep down, it was you I wanted all along, why things fell apart with me and Sandy and why I fell for you so damn hard. But I didn’t want you thinking you were some rebound thing…"

"My god, we are _incredibly_ stupid," you chuckle, then turn serious. "I don’t want to get all girly and mushy…but thanks," you tell him sincerely. "Thanks for being the brave one. I don’t know if I ever would’ve said anything."

He runs a hand up and down your arm softly. "Thought you were getting better about speaking up, saying what you feel."

You move closer to him, your breath soft on his face. "Well let me start working on that right now," you whisper, your lips brushing his. "Love you," you kiss him. "I love you…"

~~~~~

One week later your cell phones ring almost simultaneously.

This is it.

Your breath sticks in your throat and your heart pounds against your chest. He motions for you to answer your phone, ignoring his own, sliding his hand over to tangle your fingers together.

His touch releases your trapped breath and you flip open your phone, never breaking eye contact with those hazel ones across from you.

He knows you so well that just the slightest change in your facial expression has him breaking into a blinding smile then yelling so loud you swear the windows shake. He tackles you back onto the couch, laughing as you both tumble off and your phone goes flying. You’re laughing, too, weeks of stress vanishing as he kisses you breathless.

You’ve got a job and that’s fantastic. But what matters most is that you have _him_.

No. You have _each other_ and that means more than any job ever could.

THE END 


End file.
